THAT'S NOT HOW WE DO THINGS HERE!

One has to sympathize with the little fella. Every time after I go out for a smoke, when I return he plaintively asks if I brought back 'corpse'. Because, naturally, turkey vultures live for corpse.
We feed him regularly. He loves the tofu peoples and the Irish (vegetables; they're green), as well as kai yit (雞翼 'gai yik', 'gai yit'; chicken wings). But he insists that if I really loved him, I'd bring back some nice juicy corpse.


"I don't ask for much! All I want is for you to go out, nobble some old guy, and bring back the fatty inner thighs!"


Then he flaps his wings and wails theatrically. His definition of loving him seems a little off.

Whatever. Not planning to whack and carve up some elderly geezer to feed him, there are laws against that, and local authorities might object. "Young man", they would say, "we don't care how hungry your turkey vulture is, or how dang much the old fossil deserved it, you cannot just 'off' him and trim the fatty bits, it is against the law!" As well as being disrespectful of the recently deceased. Which, even in San Francisco, would result in legal issues.

鵟仔

The turkey vulture has suggested that when I go for my next doctor's appointment at the clinic, I bring him along so that he can casually browse the hallways looking for something that needs to be disposed of. Maybe some old person in the hospital upstairs has croaked, and they've just plonked him outside the ICU for housecleaning to pick up. He'll "help" them.

The clinic is on the basement (lower ground flour) level (地下一樓 'dei haa yat lau') of the hospital building. He'd have to take the elevator up. Pressing the buttons might be difficult; no solid base for leverage when he's hovering, he'd have to rely on the kindness of strangers. Who, I suspect, would object, loudly, to a small feathered flying ghoul.

I'm sure I'd hear about it.


I've got a regularly scheduled medical appointment today. They just need to make sure that I'm still alive, so it won't take more than fifteen minutes, but I'm not telling him.
He thinks I'm simply going to my bank.
That too.



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